Welcome to Gaia! ::

With a shake the deal was made, magic was promised for the next day and for one little agreement, they were bound to the other. Odd way to look at it perhaps, but still it flashed through the witch's mind.
The pull closer only tempted Belladonna more as she pressed her face into the crook of his neck and breathed deep. He liked all her little nips, right? They were something that he enjoyed, if she recalled correctly, which prompted her to open her mouth just as Mort spoke again. This was enough. She was enough. Right here, on Halloween night, all cuddled up close, safe and sound. Enough.
Words kind and sincere enough to almost make the witch cry all over again. She'd only ever wanted to be enough for him, to make him happy. To mean something to him.
"Distracting?" Belladonna asked in way of covering the deep satisfaction she felt over his sweet words. After the poke on her nose she returned to his neck and placed another kiss, merely because he'd noticed her advances. "I haven't the faintest idea what you mean." She mumbled before she took the quickest little n** at his neck and replaced her face to the crook of his shoulder. With a face red from desire, it would not do her any good to show him how blatantly she wanted him. Not when the moment was so romantic and she always so wanton.

"Oh, I suppose you're right... Hmmm." At this the witch pulled back to give Mort a once over. With the hoodie on, it hid most of his uncleanliness, but it was still evident on his jeans and face. For a long moment the witch sat there in contemplation, eyes unfocused as she stared at the little patch of fuzz on his chin.
What was the most logical solution to this quandary that would keep them in the others company, but also not force them to leave the room? For Belladonna had large t-shirts that would fit Mort, but not his tall frame. And she didn't even own a pair of jeans, let alone any that would fit him. But if they went and got him some new clothing, they would have to leave the sanctuary of this room. Things would return to normal and abandon this illustriously golden hue cast upon this night. Undoubtedly things would return to normal the next day when they began to pick up their lives together once more, but Belladonna was a dramatic thing who still longed for one full night in a fully romantic manner.
And when Mort whined and pulled her close, the witch could do nothing but comply.
"We could... Send someone to go fetch you some clothing, while we stay here! Ah... Hmm... I... Might be able to conjure up something? I would have one of the pets do it, but they've all vacated for the evening..." Plus, it would be a fine test of her magic. If she could legitimately conjure up a physical creature to do her momentary bidding, she would know she could do anything else. And then perhaps a bigger push would not be so unwarranted.

Just yet.
He did not want her tired just yet.
As in there was more planned. As in he wanted her for something else. As in he wanted her too.
Whereas Belladonna's face had been red before, it turned all the darker now as she quickly leaned forward to press a slightly frantic kiss to his mouth. Then she was up and scrambling from the bed, feet on the floor in a second before she nearly dashed across the room to her bookshelf. Only there did she finally halt her somewhat exuberant expression of excitement, for the witch had to actually stop and look for the book she needed. It took longer than might have been necessary as Belladonna paused to gaze at the little jar of ivy leaves, no longer grey, but their former deep green color. Two weeks was plenty of time in which to really and truly miss a color, even a color that is only reserved for a lovers' eyes. But the world had been set back to rights. The ivy leaves stared back at the witch in all their glorious color, and when she quietly glanced backwards, the pair of eyes that watched her held the same luminous tint.
Quick to turn back around, the witch finally located the book and snatched it off the shelf. Dusty from disuse, a quick puff of air created a billow around her that made Belladonna momentarily cough before she waved a free hand and darted from the cloud of offensive residue. In the middle of the room she stopped and flipped the book open. One hand held the book while the other flipped through that pages, flipped back a few and finally found the searched for page. Pink eyes quickly scanned the page before a smile bloomed on her face and she pressed the open book to her chest and transfered the smile to Mort.
"Are you ready for some magic?" She asked in a deviously gleeful voice before she took one step backward and rose her right hand into the air.

A second, two, three passed where she only stood with a hand raised high above her head, fingers delicately positioned much like a ballerina's might be. But it only took those three seconds before a faint pink glow began around her hand and the air around her began to shift. Quickly Belladonna checked the spell before she swirled her hand around in a circle and with a downward motion similar to a toss a bright pink circle about the size of a hula-hoop formed on the floor. A toe touched the edge of the glowing ring, swiped to the left and a number of symbols bloomed along the invisible line. The motion was repeated for the opposite side, as well as the top and bottom until the whole inside of the pink circle was crisscrossed with more glowing swirls and mysterious alphabets.
Belladonna took a step backwards, still within the confines of the ring, and quickly bent down. A flat palm was pressed in the very middle right against the floor and held there for a second as she furrowed her eyebrows in concentration. When she finally stood up straight and removed her hand, a dark pink blob remained that held a marbled, shifting quality.
With that the witch hopped from the circle and shut the book closed with a snap.
"Let's hope this works." The witch mumbled as she set the book down on the bed, then returned to the front of the circle. She took a deep breath, held her hands out over the circle and after another second to pause, flicked them up.
Nothing happened.

Belladonna tried to motion again, a little harder.
This time the little blob made a weak attempt at moving, rose up about three inches off the ground and then unhappily flopped back down.
"Errrr, first time trying this spell... Um, hold on, let me try that again." She told Mort with a worried turn up of eyebrows. This was not looking good...

Alright, so maybe it had been quite a while since the witch had really worked any spells. Mostly because there had been no need to work spells considering the deep melancholy she experienced and the fact that there were no spells that really healed sadness. Not truly, much in the same way there were no true love spells. Not ones that would instill honest love, nothing similar to thing shared between witch and zombie. Which was the precise thing Belladonna used to fuel her attempt at the second spell. Mort was always so encouraging of her and her magic, so it was imperative that she do her best for him.
Since the circle still remained on the floor and glowed its pink light and was still all around useful, it seemed unnecessary to redo the first part over again. A quick, 'wait just a minute' gesture was given as Belladonna tip toed back into the circle, careful not to touch any of the markings. Even if a toe or heel happened to brush against them, they would still continue to glow, but it was always better to safe than sorry. Especially when magic was involved.
Once back in the middle she bent back down and repositioned her palms over the little blob. This time she squeezed her eyes close as she concentrated on the blob. A long minute passed before she sighed and removed both hands. Now the blob looked a bit more solid, a bit closer to a crystalline form and was not quite as dark. With that done the witch was back out of the circle, back with her hands above it. Once again she flicked them down and this time, the little crystal blob shuddered before it stood up. Carefully it expanded up and up as it morphed into a strange little creature, something similar to a very small imp that reached the witch's knees. It was too thin with too long arms that almost brushed the ground, knobby kneed and skeletal, with strange antennae that flopped down around its featureless face.

"Lovely!" Belladonna cooed as she squatted down to the creature who rolled around on the circle momentarily before it trotted over to the witch. "I need you to listen to me and go to Mort's room and get him some clothes. A full outfit." Here she paused and looked up at Mort, a smile on her face. The spell had not worked as well as she would have liked, but it was still far better than the previous incarnation. It was still something good. "Anything specific you'd like? Its best to be as detailed as possible for Mr. Constantine. That's his name, isn't it?" Her face scrunched up into something cute for the creature, who looked up at her and let out a grating squeak. Apparently that meant it was pleased, for the witch clapped her hands together and cooed at the creature some more. Yes, this spell had worked quite well after all!

The little creature plopped down as Mort described his clothing and looked particularly... Well, with no eyes and just a jagged little mouth that only opened and closed, it was a little difficult to tell exactly how Mr. Constantine felt about the whole situation. As he had yet to refuse them, only tilted his head to one side as Mort spoke, it seemed he acquiesced to their mission. Half way through the zombie's explanation the little thing began to fiddle with its own antennae, first lifting one and then the other before he flopped over onto his stomach on the floor.
At this conjecture Belladonna prodded him lightly on the vicinity of his forehead which instantly caused him to sit back up. Mort finished his request and while the witch smiled up at him, she quickly turned back to the imp and whispered to him to grab a few pairs of jeans as well. For even though it hadn't been spoken between them, she just assumed that Mort would spend a few days in her room. And when they grew tired of being in the bright room, surely they would merely only move to his room and start the process over. Perhaps the witch should actually mention this, but for now she was content to let the little creature do its work.
After their joint explanation, Belladonna skipped to the door and swept it open for the creature. It nodded once at her, then proceeded to toddle down the hallway and down the stairs. Feeling mighty accomplished, the witch shut the door, whirled around and happily resumed her spot on the bed with Mort. This, naturally, included quite a lot of flourishing and a bit of bounce as she clambered next to him.

"Yes, I suppose I do not really do much magic around you. And I have certainly never tried that spell before, its honestly a miracle it worked at all." The witch mused as she invited herself back onto Mort's lap. After all, they had been doing so well earlier, why not just pick that back up? "It isn't an actual demon, its just a manifestation of my FEAR. They provide a picture in the book of what it could look like and I wasn't feeling very creative, so I just copied it. And its going to dissolve the moment it returns to the room. But, if I really wanted something to do my bidding, that's what familiars are for! Though, most of them are a bit more... Attentive than my current one." Yet even as she spoke, Belladonna's eyes shone with all the adoration she felt toward Binx. As inattentive as he might be, he was still her familiar, her first one and therefore far more special than any others that would come after him.
"While we wait, what would you like to do?" She inquired with a smile and a peck to his cheek.

The cheesy remark was replied to with a wry smile and a slight downturn of eyebrows, but it did also reward him with a laugh and another peck to his cheek.
"I would have hoped my winning personality and gorgeous looks would have done the job nicely." Belladonna offered with another laugh. But she was content to curl up against him, to bask in this moment. Unfortunately the moment didn't really turn into a moment as Mort leaned back to put the crystal on a pillow. It would be a shame to lose the gem, so Belladonna slid back to move the gem to her bedside table, totally oblivious to the fact that perhaps she shouldn't go about touching the crystal without permission. The thought didn't occur to her even as she returned to him, though she did not return to his lap. This ended up being for the best as he wanted to question her, so the witch placed her hands against his knee and nodded. Maybe she too could think of some questions to ask, though she would hate to pester him or tread onto something he'd rather not discuss right now.
And with all the myriad of questions Mort could have asked her, Belladonna still found herself surprised at this one. A reply immediately sprang up in her mind, but she took a few seconds to consider the why behind it. Why hadn't she been more cautious, more careful to tread in case this was an attack? Especially considering they now had proof that Hunters could infiltrate the school in convincing golems.

"Sometimes... When grief is experienced, it manifests itself in odd quirks. Some people never notice these, while others become haunted by them. My quirk was that I could not see the color of your eyes." It should not have felt embarrassing to admit this, but the witch still dropped her gaze in attempt to hide the pink tint of her cheeks. She's not told anyone about this, not even Binx. "And if you had not returned to me... If was not my Mort, then the color would have been gone too. It would not have been right. That isn't a very answer, I'm afraid, but it is the only one I have..."
Yet at this she did look back up at him, sure to take on a playful smile.
"Should I ask you questions only the real Mort would know?" There was no time to answer she held up a finger in curiosity. "What type of treat did I have with me during our first meeting? What color was my prom dress? What is your favorite color? What is your middle name?"
OK, so maybe she didn't know the answer to that last one. At least she'd find out now!

While the overly sweet words still made her smile, when the witch turned back around to see Mort's had disappeared, she felt the gravity of what she'd done. It was only a touch, had been a protective one at that as she had been in the hope that moving the crystal to someplace safer would actually win his approval. Naturally she failed to fully think that thought out, as well as failed to grasp exactly why his smile had gone. Where it mostly stemmed from a place of protection of oneself, Belladonna could not stop the little twinge of guilt that said maybe it was because he didn't trust her. That love was one thing, but trust another she had yet to fully earn. Horrible thought, really, but a young ghoul fresh in love is never a very full thinking creature.
With such a thought already in her mind, when nothing was said about her loss of a color it did little to ease those worries. While it was an odd thing to have happened regardless, it was all the more imposing and strange because it had been in relation to him. He had been the cause of it, but also the solution. Now that Belladonna had spoken of it, had actually entrusted that knowledge to him, he said said nothing. Only an arm around her waist and a kiss to the forehead. That was the reward for her troubles.
She was being petty, really. She was being extremely childish, too. There was no way to prepare someone for that information, but how could she possibly expect him to react in any manner other than shock when he was still getting over a huge shock already?

"Yes, very close. Sir Cuddley Ruffle Butt. And yes, it was blue. To match your suit." The witch replied with a small smile that she tiled back up to him. Before she'd left her face dropped down, but now it felt imperative to look at him. Especially to see that concentrated tilt of mouth. Had he really forgotten? Or had been being essentially dead for two weeks scrambled some things in his mind? Or was there, perhaps, a third, far worse option? Was it more along the lines of they were small details, unimportant in the grand scheme of things so he'd let them go?
"James? Really? No, you've never told me that's why I asked! James, hmm. Mortimer James McNeal. That's so proper!" Belladonna could not help but laugh a little, though it did ebb at his pronouncement of why he was not so uncertain over her questions. Maybe on any other day the witch would have waved a hand at him and not been at all bothered, but with him gone for two weeks... It felt a bit like he'd forgotten her. Small things they were for now, but the witch knew how small could so easily grow to very large and very unmanageable in no time flat.

Yet it was the question about her hair that mostly snapped her from this melancholy reverie. She fixed him with a quizzical look before she reached behind her and fished for the ends of her curls. When instead she grabbed a good chunk of hair and not just grazed the bottom Belladonna frowned. Pale hands brushed a portion over her shoulder where it fell past its usual length and skimmed the bottom of her waist.
"I suppose I have... I hadn't really noticed." A fingertip followed a spiral around and around until she had to give up the endeavor or be trapped in the red of her own hair. "Is it alright? It doesn't look funny does it? I rather like it so long, but it isn't a bother?" Ugh, she hated herself for these questions, for this sudden fragility. He'd been gone two weeks. Not even a full month, but she'd mourned him like he was to be dead for far longer. She'd let this whole thing get out of hand so that now she could hardly make a decision about her hair without his approval, without an encouraging smile.
Or... Or was it not like that at all? Maybe it was things had changed a little while he had gone and Belladonna just wanted to ascertain that he was alright with these changes. Maybe she was being kind after all.

Even though he was right here with her, even though Mort held the witch in his lap, cradled her close and did not push her away, Belladonna still felt as though they were miles apart. The silence became thick, wedged its way between their bodies and pushed until either of them could have easily been alone. Sudden and sharp this whole thing felt, odd and confusing. Never before had the witch felt so alone with someone nearby, and as she'd never been in love before, she couldn't be sure if this was normal or something very wrong.
No one had discussed this sort of thing with her, no one had really told her what to watch out for. Unfortunate really that they both had to blunder through this, that they both had to bolster the other from their sorrow when the other had their own to deal with. Usually it wasn't so, usually it was one or the other, rarely both. So now what were they to do? How were they to continue down this path? Who would lead, who would follow, who would push and who would pull?
"That's very kind." Belladonna mumbled as she inclined her head away from him, just long enough that her hair returned to its state behind her. If it grew much longer she was going to have to sweep it out from underneath her when she sat, but for now it just brushed the top of her hips, a comforting weight.
He had not offered his opinion besides her beauty and already rather down about things, the witch let it go and only sat in his lap, hands folded atop her legs. The happiness from before had vanished, had let itself be thrown back out into the hall by the formerly oppressive atmosphere which now tried to clutch at the lovers shoulders.

Since her eyes were already down turned, it was impossible for her to see his go the same way. But the first word managed to catch her attention enough that she shifted her gaze up and surprised herself by being surprised at his averted face. The hand against her back pressed her close, pressed its chill past the thin layers of clothing and seeped into her skin, a soft reminder of comfort. It was a needed anchor as his words tumbled out and over the witch, as they explained his own pain, as they linked them together with mutual sorrow.
Difficult at first to understand, Belladonna managed to catch on to his phrases, finally allowed herself to understand exactly what it was he was trying to impart. Or, at least, hoped she understood what he was trying to tell her.
In reply, she lifted a hand to his chin where the witch brushed her fingertips against the particular curve where his neck melted into the underside of his jaw and only stopped once she reached the scratchy hair. A small gesture that closed some of this suddenly gaping distance between them, anything to feel he was still close to her. Anything to know that she was not as alone as she felt.
"I... I am very, very sorry. I did not mean to cause you pain." Belladonna told him as she pressed upwards in a hint that she wanted to look at him. Still her stomach dropped when she could see his green, see a shade where it had merely only been grey before. Even now, despite the sadness that pervaded their words, it created a dull fluttering in her stomach similar to hearing him say he loved her.
"But you must know... Now more than ever, that I could never hate you. That I fought so hard because I love you, because... Because I still need you."
The other hand found the underside of his chin and joined its sister, as one thumb stretched out to tap against his jaw. The witch's gaze had gone glassy, but a steel resolve to stop all this silly crying kept her tears from spilling over and a faint smile laced with sadness came out instead.

"You can tell me anything. Absolutely nothing will change how I feel about you. People change. You are not the same person I met chasing my treat. But I love you still. Does this make sense?" Was this something that would fix their worries? Were these the words to say to mend this sudden hole between them, to erase the separation they felt? Sorrow could be experienced together, no matter how they had each suffered in their own way. It wasn't fair that Mort had not experienced the time apart, the days and hours and weeks alone as Belladonna had, but he too had lost. So they could move on together. They just had to find the steps to this odd little dance, had to trust the other to hold on tight. They had to believe that just like this night, so too would their sorrow run its course, that they could recover from this.